Thirty to Life
by raileht
Summary: Peter Florrick can charge his daughter thirty to life if he wants to.  Pre-show


**Thirty to Life**  
>by: raileht<p>

**Summary:** Peter Florrick can charge his daughter thirty to life if he wants to.**  
>Disclaimer:<strong> The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.**  
>Rating: K<strong>

**Note:** I felt like writing this so I did. Once again, a reminder, _not_ my ship so I dunno them as well as a real shipper would. And yeah, maybe this will come out 'out of character' and I've no excuse for that so...there. But really, the way I imagined these two before everything went to pot? They were pretty happy…once upon a time.

* * *

><p>Peter Florrick checked his watch, once again making sure he hadn't gotten it wrong.<p>

He was early, maybe ridiculously early, but he didn't get much chance to do this with his schedule and responsibilities so the moment he got the chance, he took it. He only wished his beeper wouldn't summon him away and cut his plans early. For once, he hoped lady luck would give him this _one day_, considering the times when he's missed out on pretty much everything.

That nagging feeling that he wasn't being the best really wasn't something he liked to feel. It was horrible, it plagued him with guilt and the doubts that gnawed at him over and over taunted him that he was turning into his father.

And god knows how_ wonderful_ that feeling was.

Peter was not his father and he never would be. He wouldn't dare go down that road and if he was feeling like this so early in the game, then he was doing something about it. There was _no way in hell_ he was going to break that personal vow he'd made to himself and, though they were not aware, his wife and children.

Leaning against his car and waving at the crossing guard that had been eyeing him for the last five minutes, he was tempted to just tell the man who he was. He didn't mind and in fact, he was quite glad—he knew he wasn't a familiar face and it was obvious the man noticed. It was good to know there were people surrounding the place that were careful and observant. He felt reassured.

Fifteen minutes later, he checked his watch again—just in time for the loud bell to start ringing and the doors burst open as two adults stepped out and held them open.

Laughter, yelling and the thumps of feet and Peter knew that sound well. He grinned, pushing from his car and standing straight as he watched the faces in the sea of children that exited the building. Kids of varying ages ran out, bags, backpacks and uniforms passing him. He was waiting for someone in particular, around the age of seven _and a half—_as he was so often being reminded these days—though this particular child was a little smaller than normal.

Watching the doors closer, he chuckled as he finally caught sight of that familiar head of wavy dark brown hair, held back by a large bright yellow headband that had caused quite the stir that morning. It had been missing in action during preparation, only to be found under the dinner table though no one was quite sure _how_ it got there. Pink, blue and green had been offered, but _yellow_ was request of the day and he knew they were lucky enough to have found it in time. He was aware that the missing hair accessory could have started World War III had they not been careful.

Peter had been tempted to call out but then he saw her searching the front of the school even as she chatted with her friends. He decided to stand there, glad he'd managed to find a prime spot, an advantage of arriving as early as he did. His smile broadened when he watched her laugh, holding on to her prized pink backpack and almost wished he had a camera.

Will he ever stop wishing he could freeze time just to see her that way forever? Probably not. And that was okay—he'd gotten used to that feeling and accepted it after finding out he wasn't alone in this particular evidence of sentimentality.

A troubled look had come upon the girl's face, no doubt wondering where the familiar face she was looking for could be. He almost gave in and called but, as if feeling someone watching her, her bobbing head suddenly turned in his direction and he caught how her eyes immediately lit up, impossibly growing brighter as her smile grew with a happy shriek.

With barely a word of goodbye to her friends who'd seen who caught her attention, she charged forward, propelling her little body as fast as her pretty black Mary Jane shoes could take her.

"DADDY!" little Grace Florrick shrieked, her shoulder length hair—_just like Mommy's!_—flying back as she raced her way through, heedless of the bodies that moved out of her way.

Peter readied himself in a crouch, uncaring that he was still in his expensive blue suit and smiled broadly at the mass that was charging towards him. It was instinctual fear that had him moving his legs forward to meet her along the way, worried that she might trip in her excitement. That could ruin what he planned to be a good afternoon together.

Nothing stopped the little ball of excitement that was his daughter as she raced forward, not until she managed to throw herself into his awaiting arms, "Daddy!"

He laughed, catching her easily and both of them didn't even notice her bag dropping with a _thunk_ underneath her as he swept her up. She laughed, loudly and happily, when he lifted her in his arms and had her hair flying around her face.

Caught up in the excitement, the man and the little girl also failed to notice the looks they were getting from a few female adults in the area, taking care of their own children as they watched him with his. And that was alright, considering they just seemed ready to melt at the sight and he didn't even know them. Peter was concentrating on his little girl.

"Hey Squirt!"

She giggled as her father held her, placing her small hands on his shoulders, "Daddy, what are you doing here?"

"Just thought I'd pick up my favorite princess from school today," Peter said with a smile, tapping her nose and roused yet another round of giggles.

"But I'm your only princess," the child almost looked troubled that he might have others she didn't know about.

"Yes, you are," he grinned and made a funny face that got her giggling again as he bent down to grab her bag seamlessly off the ground and placed it in the backseat before buckling her in the front.

"Where's Mommy?" Grace asked, looking around as if expecting her mother to pop up somewhere.

"At home," Peter said, "I got time off for the day so I decided _we_ should go out and get some ice cream together and—"

The girl jumped in her seat, "Get a gift for Mommy!"

Peter chuckled as he started the car, "You got it, Squirt."

Mommy's birthday was in three days and while Zach already had his gift and Grace was nearly done making hers, Daddy was the odd one out as he had yet to find something perfect. Who better than his little girl _and_ ice cream?

"But what about Zach?" the girl frowned.

"He's still in school, but we're going to pick him up later too," he reached sideways and ruffled her hair playfully.

"Daaaa-_ddy_!" she said in an effort to reprimand him but she was too happy so instead, she giggled some more and batted at his hand with her smaller ones.

"For now, it's just you and me, Munchkin," he smiled, "How's that sound?"

"Perfect! We get to go shopping for Mommy!"

Then she started humming happily to herself as she watched the city pass by while Daddy drove with a smile on his face.

-o0o-

Two hours and a dizzying number of shops later, the father and daughter found themselves with nothing to show for their trip except a coloring book and a new set of crayons.

Definitely _not_ for Mommy, but Grace was happy enough to declare, "We can go again tomorrow, right, Daddy?"

And as much as Peter was tempted to say no and explain he had to work, it was impossible so he simply chuckled and hugged her to him, "We'll see, Munchkin."

Driving home, he expected her to drop off, as she was prone to doing whenever she spent a full day out. But then Peter was learning just _how_ powerful sugar could be, at least, in ice cream _and_ jelly beans forms. Grace was still happily chattering away.

"So, school was fun today?"

"Mhm," the girl hummed happily, "Well, except…"

Keeping his hands firm on the wheel, Peter glanced at her just in time to catch the face she made. It was the same one she made after begging for a taste of sushi that led to what was now her extreme dislike for seafood because, according to the wisdom of the seven-almost-eight year old, 'it tasted like worms'.

And Peter didn't dare inquire just _how_ his angelic little girl could know _what_ worms tasted like. Too many years driving his own mother insane grappling through her garden between the ages four and twelve taught him just what kids were prone to doing when left of their own volition.

"Except what, baby?" he asked, concerned. He'd heard of the increasing complaints on bullying around the schools and playgrounds—while his children were enrolled in the best school in the city, he also knew the possibility that they could have a few there as well. Peter just hoped that wasn't the case with Grace.

"Nothing," the girl was suddenly mumbling, "Just learned a new song."

"A song? Well, that's not too bad…" Peter frowned a little, feeling that pang of envy again at the thought of his wife. Alicia was so much better at this, especially when it came to Grace. Being an only child, his understanding of little girls came from what he had learned from when he was little to the things he was still picking up having a daughter.

"It's not, well, not at first," adorably, she crossed her arms over her chest, channeling her mom when she was in her 'Angry Mom' mode, "They were teasing me."

"Teasing you? With the song?"

"Mhm," Grace mumbled, "It was fun but then it wasn't anymore."

"What was the song?" Peter asked, curious.

"…kissing."

Peter found himself freezing for a moment. _Kissing_? His foot itched to slam on the breaks but he gathered enough of his wits not to. Instead, he looked at her again, gripping the wheel just a little bit tighter. _Kissing!_ His daughter was _seven_ years old, for god's sake.

_What_ did _seven year olds_ know about kissing? And _singing_ about it too?

If there was one thing Peter Florrick was sure about, it was the fact that he was _definitely_ not ready to deal with _this_ particular stage in his _little girl_'s life. This was _not_ scheduled to happen for _at least_ ten more years!

"Okay," the father in him said, slowly while he kept his eyes on the road. _Grace was going to be the death of him, _he was sure of it. "What song about, uh, kissing?"

"You know…" Grace shifted in her seat, "The one where you spell the word? Like…Mommy and daddy sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G."

Peter blinked, shaking his head a little. He knew that song alright. He'd heard his share that in his life. He wasn't a fan of it either, even lesser now considering his daughter had _apparently_ learned it already as well. She was _seven!_

"Anyway," she pushed her headband higher up her head, unknowingly making her hair bunch messily behind her head. "They kept singing it about me and Kenny."

"_Kenny?_" he swallowed, wondering if he could get away with murdering a child. She was _seven_ years old! And who in their right minds would name their child _Kenny_. What the _hell_ was a Kenny? "Kenny who?"

"Chandler," she shrugged. "They kept singing Grace and Kenny sitting in—"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Peter cut her off, gripping the wheel just a little bit tighter while keeping at bay the murderous thoughts he was having on a boy he'd never even met. "Well, about this Kenny…who is Kenny?"

"He's a boy in my class," she shrugged, "His dad's a cop."

Peter almost groaned. A cop. His daughter was being linked to a son of a _cop_ already. This was getting better and better. Working in the State's Attorney's office was giving him a good preview of what cops were in general and he was pretty sure that while they were noble in their profession, he was _not_ about to start thinking about his _little girl_ dealing with them.

"Gracie—"

"Wait! I know what you can get Mommy for her birthday!"

"What—?" he almost asked _what birthday _then remembered, but that didn't matter since his clever daughter who was apparently learning how to _distract_ and _deflect_, was already bouncing in her seat.

"Daddy, why don't you get Mommy a DOG!"

And so began the 'Grace Wants a Dog' rematch, _Round 112_ and Peter was looking at yet _another_ loss lined up. He barely ever managed to escape this argument every time it came up, but god knew what _Mommy _was going to do with Daddy if he ever caved. He was going to let her talk their daughter down from this one—again.

Thank god for his wife.

Peter decided that maybe something in the line of diamonds wouldn't be a bad idea after the dog rematch again.

That is, of course, if she didn't castrate him first.

-o0o-

As far as Alicia Florrick was concerned, her children were good kids.

They were well mannered, polite and had not one mean bone in their small bodies. They were the center of her world, her beautiful dark haired children who were the perfect combination of her husband and herself. And they were the best thing in their lives and the very beings that will forever link Alicia and Peter for all of eternity.

Amazing, beautiful, intelligent kids.

Up until bed time and then all bets were off.

A week never went by without at least one or two nights where negotiations for bed time extensions were made, puppy dog eyes thrown around like all get out, some whining, and maybe a bit of tears here and there. Cute batting of precious eyelashes to frowns and declarations of having 'mean parents' because an eight o'clock bedtime was simply _uncool_.

Bed times were the times where Alicia was sure her children switched places with crafty, mouthy little goblins who liked to mess with humans and make their heads spin before lights out. Little things that changed her children from angels to outright nightmares before bed, both of them, as much as it pained her to admit it, even in her mind—she had _good_ kids.

Not that she wasn't equipped to deal with them, of course because with the removal of her earth angels, she had something in her ammunition to fend off the Night Goblins and that was 'Mean Mom' who was _not_ a stranger to grounding said goblins before bedtime and removing privileges as seen fit. Alicia was rather fond of Mean Mom, considering she'd yet to lose a battle.

And winning against the goblins were almost worth the brushes of guilt post-vanquishing and reestablishing her children back into their sane, angelic selves.

She salved what damages Mean Mom may leave with goodnight kisses, reminding them she loved them and a promise of sweet dreams and being just down the hall. It worked often enough unless it was a particularly rowdy night. Episodes like this during bed time, as far as Alicia was concerned, were something she could do without, if it was possible.

Thankfully, while there was resistance on both fronts, she managed to avoid an outright battle with both children. Only glimpses of Mean Mom came out and that was a bonus.

Releasing a sigh and heading back into her bedroom, she found her other-but-not-necessarily-better-half exiting the bathroom. His half-dressed state and looking more than quite fetching in navy pajama bottoms was almost enough to wipe the fact from her mind that he had left her to fend off the goblins again.

Big bad lawyer could deal with the scum of the earth and go toe to toe with ruddy little defense lawyers but god help him if she left him to deal with their offspring _alone_ for one night. Even his mother wouldn't be able to help salvage his sanity before one night could even pass. It was too tempting, she almost smiled.

"Husband."

That boyish smirk was cute on good days, but on bad ones, it made her want to punch his pretty face _sometimes, _"Yes, wife?"

"I'm not sure what to address first—your leaving me with _your_ errant offspring for the _enth _time," she pointed a finger at him, "_Or_ the fact that you've been acting weird all night."

"Do I get to choose?" he tried to charm her with a disarming smile again, one that both children had manage to inherit from him but she was immune enough now. Her only consolation was the fact that said children were using that exact same smile to disarm him the way he thought he still could with her. And he was completely defenseless, the sucker.

"I'm going to go with…no," she said, giving him a sarcastic smile as she sat on the bed. "You left me with _your _children because you are, essentially, a wimp."

"Hey," he pretended to be hurt although she could detect the playfulness in him just as he could with her. "I'm hurt. Deeply."

"And I'm ready to take off for the week and leave _you_ with _your_ children and see just how green my side of the grass is," Alicia smiled, fluttering her eyelashes at him. "So let's go with door number two because I don't know what's behind that one."

"Don't know what you're talking about."

"I am a sensing bull and since it's _that_ strong, considering it took me little to no effort to detect, I'm guessing it's something big," she tilted her head sideways, "Come on, Peter, I don't have all night. And you need to tell me if I need a drink for this one."

"Entertaining alcoholism, darling?"

"One more beddy-bye-time like that? Maybe," she smiled serenely but then sobered up, "Peter?"

The smile dropped promptly and he sighed, sitting down on the bed next to her as if he'd been suddenly zapped of energy. Beside him, Alicia frowned, dropping that sarcasm that she had so expertly laced in her voice earlier and grew truly concerned, placing a hand on his thigh.

"It's just something Grace said about school today."

"Did something happen?" Alicia asked, her concern growing. Grace seemed more than fine at dinner, giggling and teasing with her brother all night. And her insistence for _ten more minutes_ notwithstanding, she was perfectly fine. Had she missed something? "Was it at school? I didn't get a call or a note or—"

"It's nothing like that," Peter shook his head, "Just…she told me today she learned a song."

"A…song," Alicia found herself nodding, slowly, completely lost. What could a song do to Peter to distress him this much?

"Yeah," he nodded, pressing his hands together under his chin as if praying and rested his elbows on his knees as he bent forward and his wife's hand slid from his thigh to his back, rubbing rhythmically without much thought.

"What song?"

"That kissing song."

Frowning, Alicia's hand stopped moving and rested warmly on the bare skin of his back, "Kissing?"

"Yeah, you know," Peter looked at her, balancing his chin on the tips of his fingers, grimacing. "The one with the tree…and the K-I-S-S-I-N-G."

His wife's eyebrows shot up and recited, "Like…boy and girl sitting in a tree, K-I-S—"

"That one," Peter grumbling and frowning at the singing.

Alicia paused, watching her husband for a moment, "So, let me get this straight…you've been acting weird all night because your daughter learned 'the kissing song' and you don't like it."

"Yes," her husband nodded. "She's so young, Alicia. So young…"

She stared at him for a full minute before her hand slid from his back.

And promptly began to laugh herself silly.

-o0o-

Peter Florrick was insulted.

His wife—_his wife!—_was laughing at him after he had just revealed to her what had been troubling him since Grace told him about school.

And it was not just laughing with small chuckles. No! She laughed the way she did whenever he made her sit through those sports bloopers, the way she laughed watching _Liar, Liar_. Her eyes lit up and she didn't even give him the grace of stifling them with her hands, _no_. She laughed until her cheeks grew pink and her eyes beautiful dark eyes glistened suspiciously.

He let her go on, laughing that laugh of hers and if he wasn't so upset, he would have laughed with her. She was infectious when she laughed, adorable even but at the moment, Peter could throttle her. How was she _not_ concerned? Her seven year old singing about kissing! She was _seven_!

Eventually, her laughter subsided and she managed to turn them into mere giggles. By then, her cheeks were red and she was wiping the corner of her eyes while as she braved meeting his eyes.

"Done?" he said simply, trying to appear stern but what did he really have left after her display?

"Oh, Peter," Alicia almost giggled again as she placed her hand on his cheek, "You are…adorable."

"I am this close to being mad at you," he pointed out, "I am concerned for my baby girl. I express my concern to you, _my wife_, and what do you do, you mock me."

Alicia smiled sweetly, "I am not mocking you…it's just, honey, you're cute. And funny. I'm not laughing at you, more…with you."

Peter frowned, "Alicia."

She straightened up, recognized the tone in his voice and shook her head, waving her hands in front of her, "Okay, okay. Forget what I just did and said. I'm sorry, that was…rude. Okay, so Grace—"

"Our _seven year old_ daughter."

"Thanks for the reminder," she winked at him, crossing one pajama clad leg over the other and cupped her knee with her interlaced fingers as she stretched her arms, "And actually, according to your daughter, it's _seven-and-a-half, _but I digress. Now, Grace happened to learn _the kissing song_ today and…that made you upset."

"Yeah," he nodded, "And now I'm wondering why it doesn't bother you."

Alicia smiled, "I'm not having a meltdown, Peter—and don't even try denying you're not," she gave him a look, cutting him off effectively when he opened his mouth to disagree with her, "—over this matter because it is what it is: a song sung by children who like to tease, plain and simple, nothing more."

"They sang it _to her,_" he grumbled, "Her and some punk named Kenny."

"Well, yeah, that's how it works," she grinned, "Nothing new there…what's that thing they say? Don't hate the player, hate the game?"

"Amazingly enough, that doesn't help," her husband said sarcastically, giving her a look. "And what the hell _is _a Kenny?"

"Kenny is a human being, not a what and he's a little boy," Alicia said smartly, "If I'm thinking about the right kid, this could be Kenny as in Kenneth Chandler? Son of Chief Chandler, police department…?"

Peter paused, "He's the Chief's son?"

Alicia nodded, "Yes. He's a nice kid. You know his parents, of course. We just saw them last week at that dinner."

"Right," her husband nodded, "But back to the singing…kids singing about _my daughter_ and a _boy_ KISSING, Alicia."

"Were they actually kissing?"

"What? No! What? Are you-what-Alicia! She's a child!" he looked so scandalized, his wife had to do everything not to laugh again. He was quite adorable when he was the one going through some parental meltdown.

She chuckled a little but then stopped when he saw the look on his face and immediately sobered herself again, "Peter, it was just a question. Kids tease, they sing songs and they play."

"But kissing—"

"They weren't kissing," Alicia soothed, "It's just a song Peter. God, don't you remember being teased like that?"

"I was a boy," he humphed, "And this is _my_ little girl."

"One: you chauvinist," Alicia pointed out, "Two: it's just teasing. If it upset Grace, there's cause for concern. If they were actually kissing, well, we deal with that. But if it's just singing…oh, Peter, they're just being children."

"Who's Kenny?" Peter asked, ignoring the whole 'kids are kids' speech again. He wasn't about to let this punk go unchecked.

"Just a boy in Grace's class," Alicia shrugged, "He's not a bad kid, Peter. He's been teasing Grace—"

"_Teasing my daughter?_" the thunder in his eyes was hard to miss but it barely did anything to his wife who just smiled.

"No need to call the townspeople with the pitchforks," she said simply, "It's just a harmless crush. He likes her so he teases her. It can't be helped, Peter. I mean, you were at that age, I'm sure. Don't you remember, I don't know, doing stupid things just to get a girl's attention even back when you were told they had cooties?"

"I didn't do anything like that."

"Oh, so you reserved that all for me back at Georgetown with those stupid antics?" she raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at him.

He reeled back, as if offended. Being shirtless almost made him feel vulnerable now, even though this was normal for them, "Hey, they made you laugh! And you went out on a date with me."

"I did and I also went to the next one after that, then the next one, then the next…" she nodded sagely, "Ah, youth."

Her sarcasm was in full display and he feigned a wounded look, "Hey, you're being awfully mean to me tonight."

"Yeah, kinda like Kenny being mean to Grace," she shrugged, "He's got a crush on her."

Peter smirked, "Does that mean you have a crush on me?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "I can punch you, if you want."

He winced. His wife knew how to punch. Better than her brother at that, "Why violence?"

"Jimmy Tucker said he would punch me when we were eight," she shrugged, "He was meant to me, pulled my hair and everything."

"Punch you?" he looked ready to be upset about some distant boy from her past and she almost laughed again. He really was quite adorable. "Who the hell was this kid?"

"First boy to have a crush on me," Alicia shrugged, "I egged him on, dared him to punch me and we fought for a while then he kissed me. Then he ran away."

"A boy kissed you when you were _eight_?" Peter echoed, "How do I not know this?"

"He kissed my _cheek_, Peter," she found his blatant jealousy quite endearing. "He's in Miami now, with four kids and a wife named Max."

"And how would you know that?" he asked suspiciously.

"Mom," she shrugged, "She was in Miami, what, three months ago?"

"Small world," Peter muttered, "But if he did punch you, I'm going there and punching him back."

"My hero," Alicia cooed before shaking her head, "He didn't. But I did kick him on the shin. It bruised and I think that's when we 'broke up'. He was pretty hurt."

"That's my girl," he chuckled, pulling her in for a quick kiss before growing serious again, "Now, Grace…"

She rolled her eyes, "Peter, it's a crush. Leave it alone." She smirked, "Come on, there had to be _one _girl, at least…first crush?"

"Sally Elliot," he shrugged, "She was the woman who lived next door. Single with long, pretty blonde hair and she was as old as my mother. She baked the best cookies—they were even better than my mom's," he grinned when his wife snorted with a laugh

"Oh, I bet Jackie just_ loved_ that."

He nodded, "And I thought I was going to marry her one day."

"For her cookies," Alicia said, slowly, "Way to go, _Mrs. Robinson_."

"Turns out she was gay and nutty," he chuckled, "They found her walking down the street with a paper boat on her head, talking about stealing Coolidge's cat."

Alicia burst into laughter again and this time, her husband joined her.

-o0o-

The next morning Grace Florrick bounded from her bedroom bright and early.

And found her Daddy fully dressed in a gray suit and Mommy preparing breakfast. In the dining table, her brother Zach sat eating pancakes. She brightened, launching herself at her mother before moving on to her father with a tight hug. It was rare to catch Daddy in the morning because he left early for work most of the time.

"Guess what, princess?"

"What?" Grace smiled, making a kissy face at him to receive her good morning kiss.

He obliged happily before informing her, "I'm taking you to school today."

"Yay!" Grace jumped, hugging her father's leg before taking her seat next to her brother. "Good morning!"

Zach barely managed to speak through a mouthful, "Morning, Gracie."

On the other side of the kitchen, her mother turned towards her father, "You are?"

"Yes, I am," Peter grinned, "I'm taking the kids to school so you can…relax."

"Peter."

"What?"

"Leave the boy alone."

"Whatever you're thinking—"

"Is exactly what you're going to be doing," Alicia waved a finger at him, "Leave it."

Peter rolled his eyes childishly, "I was just going to look."

"No," she said simply as she handed him a plateful of pancakes and they both headed towards the table to join their children.

"Fine," he mumbled before smiling at his daughter who was grinning at him excitedly before stopping his wife by the island in the middle of their kitchen, "But one thing…"

"What?" Alicia raised her eyebrows at him.

"She's _not_ dating until she's thirty," he said, serious with not even a sign of mischief in his eyes.

His wife merely smiled, "You're _sentencing_ your daughter? Peter, people who kill other people get lesser sentences than that."

"It's not a sentence," he said, raising his chin a little, "It's a decision. I'm the parent. I've the right."

His wife stared at him for a moment before laughing silently and shaking her head, "My god, Peter, if you're acting like this at her current age and some silly song, what more when she's fifteen, I wonder," Alicia teased, "It's going to be _so _interesting…"

"Fifteen," Peter paled, "You're being needlessly cruel."

She raised an eyebrow at him, "And sentencing her to thirty to life isn't?"

"Not _to life_," he pointed out, "Thirty as in no extensions. Flat _thirty_."

"How magnanimous of you," his wife mocked him like the smartass she really was capable of being.

"You were _eight_ when you had your first kiss," Peter muttered, pointing at her almost accusingly, only to receive an absent shrug from her shoulders, "And I'm batting away _punks_ already while she's _seven and a half_, are you trying to shorten my life even more by letting her date early?"

Alicia chuckled, "You are _so _melodramatic."

"Yeah, well, can you blame me?" he grumbled, "She's still not dating until she's thirty."

"I will leave that between you and your daughter," she smiled, "For now, she thinks boys are mean, have cooties and smell like feet. You're good for now."

"Good," he kissed the side of her head affectionately before letting her proceed ahead of him.

"You're still taking them to school," she smirked, tossing that over her shoulder with a wicked grin as she spoke loud enough for their children to hear.

When he opened his mouth to argue, his daughter immediately clapped her hands happily and danced in her seat, humming happily while her mother dribbled syrup on her pancakes. Zach gave him a happy grin as he ate. Well, he _had_ cute kids so how could he refuse? "Yes, I am, of course!"

"Thank you," Alicia smiled and without even looking at her son, she simply said, "Zach, elbows off the table."

Her son followed, more than used to the eyes on the back of his mother's head and sat properly while his dad shook his head with a grin and his wife continued to speak as if nothing happened, "It should help my morning."

"Anytime, dear," he said, smiling as he leaned forward and kissed her.

It didn't take long for the humming to start into a full song.

"_Mommy and Daddy sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…"_


End file.
